


and she did.

by ivermectin



Series: somewhere between avonlea and kirrin island [2]
Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Famous Five - Enid Blyton
Genre: Anne is yearning, Christianity as a metaphor for being left behind, Established Relationship, F/M, Gen, George Kirrin uses He/Him Pronouns, POV Anne Shirley, Pining, They're 15 year olds, but just one sentence, that jesus bit unsettled me deeply when i was a kid...hence, trans george kirrin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25635298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivermectin/pseuds/ivermectin
Summary: Anne's best friends, George and Diana, are in love.This definitely means something for Anne.The question is, what?
Relationships: Diana Barry & Anne Shirley & George Kirrin, Diana Barry/George Kirrin
Series: somewhere between avonlea and kirrin island [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800484
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7





	and she did.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [facingthenorthwind (spacegandalf)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegandalf/gifts).



> Emma, I have already decided that everything I write in this fic series is going to be for you (my target audience with whatever-this-is is literally the two of us.)
> 
> I have weird and mixed feelings about how this one turned out, and I also have no idea of when this takes place, chronologically or whatever, so. Yes, it's vague. Choose your own adventure, but with the time period. Hah.
> 
> Anyway! Obviously my feelings on how good this is or isn't are biased, so none of that really matters. Hope you like this!

Diana Barry and George Kirrin are involved, as people would say. Romantically involved. They haven’t chosen a word for it yet, but it’s happened, and Anne thinks to herself that she knew it would happen, and why does she feel like this? Hollow and numb and a little left behind? Her two best friends, best friends in the entire world, get along so well, practically like a house on fire. And now they spend more time connecting their mouths than doing anything else, and isn’t this good news?

Anne can see the wedding, in her mind’s eye. She’s always been romantic. Diana will look beautiful, wearing light pastel colours that will catch the light off stained glass windows, and George will look magnificent in a suit, handsome and wonderful as she’s always known he is. She can imagine all of it. The way he’ll smile at Diana, almost shy, like they share a secret. The way Diana will glow from the force of it. _You may now kiss the bride._ And they will kiss. They will kiss and kiss and kiss, the way they have been doing since they got together when they were fifteen.

Diana wasn’t the sort of girl who’d be into dating, people said, and maybe she wouldn’t have been, but she and George had just seemed to click. Anne had known from the first time they met that there was something special about them, almost magnetic. Diana had given him a shy smile, and he’d given her a broad grin, and he’d told her all the best stories about his summer vacation and his cousins, complete with hand gestures, and Diana had listened enraptured, her eyes twinkling, and Anne had thought, _oh, I’ve lost my best friends to each other, haven’t I,_ but she hadn’t felt glum about it; not even a little. It’d felt nice, comforting, good to know that the three of them loved each other so much.

And George was a valuable addition to their team, even if Mrs Barry disapproved at first. He bought all the best comics, had fun ideas for all their games, and had a dog – Timmy – who loved Anne and whom Anne loved. He knew the best ways to climb a tree, the secrets to running fast, how to fly a kite or carve a boomerang, but was also good at the crossword, and at science, and even though he claimed he would rather die than touch a romance novel, he always listened enthusiastically when Anne or Diana wanted to talk about one.

Diana, who was usually introverted with anyone who wasn’t Anne, was extra vibrant around him, too – sharing opinions on everything, discussing political things with him, showing him embroidery patterns and asking for his views on practically everything. Anne shouldn’t have been surprised when, in the middle of reading Shakespeare together, Diana reached out for George’s hand, and he let her take it. Or for all the times they’d curled up together, leaning on each other, even before all the kissing.

“I just love him so much,” Diana would tell Anne later.

“I understand,” Anne would say. _And she did._

“I just love her so much,” George would tell Anne later.

“I understand,” Anne would say. And she did.

Of course she understood. There wasn’t any other way it was going to go, was there? Late at night, in her room, she thought of them both, of their laughter, their kindness, their cheer and the way they worked together, the way they _fit._ And she remembered the picture of Jesus with the children, the one she’d spoken about to Marilla back when Avonlea wasn’t home to her, not yet, and she remembered that feeling, of being left behind, being the odd one out, being an afterthought and nothing else. She loved them both, knowing that there was no space for her in their love. She’d decided that she was their best friend; she was going to do the best job that she could do at being their best friend. And she did. She did, she did, she did. Again and again and again.

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ but this time, louder


End file.
